


What Lies Ahead

by MoonShadowMagic



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Gen, post-game botw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonShadowMagic/pseuds/MoonShadowMagic
Summary: First chapter is a preface to the rest of the work, which deals with What Happens After the final battle against Calamity Ganon.Please note that I have *not* played all the games in this series, by a long stretch, and feel myself free to pick and choose things from such sources as the Creating a Champion book and the still-fresh Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity game. Therefore, there will certainly be departures from canon.The action herein covers the day before that battle.Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda franchise, including Breath of the Wild, and all related characters and elements are the property, copyright and trademark of Nintendo and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.
Relationships: OCs - Relationship, Zelda/Link, canon NPC - Relationship
Kudos: 4





	1. The Day Before

Ember knew something was up when the quiet boy from nowhere started bringing in his horses.

He’d first shown up just after the Towers had risen out of the earth and the old shrines had lit up, and the ugly clouds had risen up to envelop the Castle. The Hylia River had begun to run unusually high, and travelers had started coming in with word that the Divine Beasts had awoken—and the one in the Zora reservoir was to blame for the flooding.

With all that going on, few people had paid any attention to one single Hylian. He would come in at all hours, sometimes on horseback and sometimes afoot. Almost invariably he’d leave at dawn, sometimes for hours, sometimes for weeks.

When he’d first appeared, it had been on a horse he’d obviously just caught, a good paint that bore no sign of having been a Boko horse recently; and soon, there were others. The ones he chose not to keep were turned into the sale pen, and no other rider that Ember knew had any complaints about them.

Then, he’d come in on the giant horse. He’d said that he had seen others nearly that size, where he’d grown up, used for draught. Ember decided, at that point, that the boy was from nowhere he knew, or a very poker-faced storyteller. No one in _these_ parts had been able to keep big animals, oxen or draught horses, since the Calamity: too costly to feed, too big to hide, too precious to lose when the monsters raided and destroyed everything they couldn’t ride or carry. Riding and pack horses or donkeys were necessary. Everything else now was hardy goats, maybe a few sheep or hogs or cows in remote places like Hateno or Lurelin; or smaller animals, like cuccos or ducks or rabbits.

Still, there was that big horse. Word came from other stables too. The boy had been all over, showing up when a tower or shrine changed color; there was speculation that he had something to do with it, but Ember wasn’t having that, at least not at first. People said he was remarkable in other ways, though—the most important of which was the way he could go through a monster patrol like a hot knife through butter.

Then he’d begun to come in with solid-colored horses.

Horses with patterned coats were held to be gentle. Thanks to centuries-old breeding practices, the flashy but usually placid commoners’ beasts were distinct from the cavalry mounts, which had been bred for sturdy conformation, endurance, agility, height and uniform color, and spirit; but every horseman knew that such a generalization about temperament could only ever be partly true. The important thing was that this Link’s horses were not only solid-colored, but also built like cavalry officers’ chargers of a century ago, according to elder stablemen. After a few weeks in his capable hands, they began to act like Ember thought a cavalry mount should act, too.

Ember had been wondering where anyone would learn how to train a warhorse these days. The Bokoblins mounted some of their scouts and hunting parties, but any of their success in combat or hunting was largely accidental. How they expected to use clubs and spears and bows with no stirrups and no saddles to hang them from, and without reins, was beyond his ken, since they had poor balance afoot and no seat astride. Watching a mounted Boko hunting party from a safe distance had been a comic, if daring, amusement since Grandfather’s time.

And here was a youngster no one had ever seen before, speaking in an old-fashioned accent when he spoke at all, training horses in a way that had become irrelevant with the destruction of Hyrule’s organized military a hundred years ago.

The clincher, though, was the white horse. Grandfather Toffa over at Outskirts had had him fitted with the royal tack. That had been an heirloom kept in his own grandfather’s trunk, ever since those terrible days a hundred years ago: though just a groom, Toffa’s grandfather had managed to escape with the Princess’s new horse, her birthday present from the Army, as she had taken her older one on that final pilgrimage. Ever since, that set of royal tack had been in the keeping of his family. The horse eventually had been set loose in the hills, managing to found a dynasty that included at least one gray foal in each generation. This one in particular, white at the age of eight and with the ivory mane and tail of his forebears, had a reputation for not being caught since birth. Yet here he was.

Three of Link’s five were here now. Two were warhorses—there was nothing else to call them—and the white one as well, with the royal tack. The latest roster reported that one of the other two was over at the Wetland stable, and one at Outskirts.

The boy was taking each mount out in turn every day, coming back in the afternoon, and then systematically going through everything in the lockers he rented, washing his clothes, selling a great many things for rupees, spending good money for arrows of all types, and buying small luxuries like soap and clean toweling and a boar’s-bristle hairbrush.

Then, he’d wait for the cooking pot. He could cook well now, far better than he could when he first showed up, sometimes using bananas or that reeking durian fruit that came all the way from Faron (and somehow they were fresh), or melons or voltfruit from the Gerudo desert; and if he ate a lot, he shared a lot, too. After the food was done, other things would go in, things that left strange smells and went into bottles and crocks. The next morning he’d be gone, and the pot was always scrupulously cleaned.

So, Ember was not as surprised as he could have been when Link came to the desk one afternoon. After putting up his horse and methodically cleaning his tack himself, he asked for paper and ink, then settled in a chair at the common table. Soon he asked Ember to read what he’d written.

There were always loungers, stablehands or travelers or traders, whose work was done for the day. They hung around in the evenings for a meal and company. Ember had had a word with two of them, and they were loafing around the outside counter, paying attention as discreetly as possible.

Even before he looked at it, Ember knew it was a will. The gist of it was that Link, Captain of the Royal Guard, Knight-Attendant to Her Royal Highness the Princess Zelda and Champion of Hyrule, bequeathed his entire estate to the Princess Zelda Bosphorama Hyrule, if she survived him; if she did not, there followed a list of detailed bequests, involving particulars of a surprising amount of property both real and movable, and rupees. Ember found himself named as a co-executor, the other being Mayor Reed of Hateno Village. Such an appointment was no surprise, as the stable managers had served as magistrates and legal advisors for decades now, even if they sometimes had to make up the law as they went. The two loungers waiting in the wings were named as witnesses, which made Ember uneasy. _Always the quiet ones_ , he thought, but he’d never realized this boy was so sharp as that.

“So, if a lady we’ve never seen brings you in on a shutter, she can use your money and property to take care of you? And if you’re both incapacitated, I or my agents or any other employees of the Stable Association are free to do that for either or both of you, until we hear from Mayor Reed? And he has the same instructions?”

“Yes.”

Ember made the notation. Now for the difficult part.

“Master Link, no one here knows you well. I’d never have pegged you for a treasure hunter, yet here you are, saying you’re going into that dangerous place after the Princess who disappeared in there a hundred years ago, and saying that you were a knight a century ago. Are you telling me that you’re a hundred years old and more? What am I to think?”

“Firstly, you can rethink that those two outside can do anything. Apart from the Yiga I’ve never spilled Hylian blood, but I won’t need to unless they try to detain me. Secondly, I’m not merely going in after loot, or even just for the Princess. I’m going after Calamity Ganon.”

There was a pause.

Before Ember could say anything, Link forestalled him. “I can’t prove anything to you, but I can show you this.” He drew the sword from his back.

_There it is,_ thought Ember after the first moment of shock. _The sword we’ve all heard about all our lives._ _Not a fake, surely, no Hylian smith I know could do anything like this now, and the Gorons nothing so refined; it’s too small for a Goron anyway. It’s not Zora or Rito, and it’s the wrong shape for Sheikah or Gerudo._

Everything was there, the blued, winged guard and the symbol of the Sealing Magic on the blade below the hilt, but no forge in Hyrule proper since the Calamity could have begun to turn out such a blade, and nothing this good had ever come from any adventurer’s luck that he’d heard of.

Link was speaking again. “I can’t explain in any detail how I survived for a hundred years, when my last memory is of passing out in battle. But I can show you a few things, if I may borrow that bucket.”

He led all three of them out into the late afternoon sun, placed the bucket on the ground and kicked it over, then replaced it.

“Now, you do the same, each of you.” He set it upright once more, then pulled out the flat slab of decorated stone, or pottery, or whatever it was that always hung at his belt, then pointed it at the bucket.

“Now try to kick it again, quickly, just from this side. You have about a minute.”

To humor him, they all three tried. Then, sorely puzzled, they tried again. The bucket wouldn’t move.

“All right, stand back here and watch.”

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Suddenly, the bucket shot across the road, bouncing up the slope opposite the stable and rolling back down. Link asked Gotter to retrieve it, refusing to touch it until they examined it.

“Magic,” Link explained tersely. “What this can do for a moment, the ancient Sheikah who built and buried the towers can do for decades. I was nearly killed that day a hundred years ago, and the healing shrine where I awoke months ago took that long to heal my injuries.

“The Sheikah had their limitations, though, even at their height, millennia ago. They could imitate some of the things that the Sealing Magic could do, but that magic is by far the more powerful. The Princess has been using it to restrain the Calamity for the last hundred years.

“It may be that the Princess is not alive to be rescued, or that she has aged and weakened and is at the end of her life, so that banishing Ganon may finish her. But the attempt must be made. It is her duty, and mine, as wielders of the Sealing Magic and the Master Sword.

“The hillside up the road is infested with the Malice, the same as clusters about the Castle. Have you noticed it growing in both places, spreading, however slowly? This is what will happen as the Princess fails and Ganon gains strength.

“No treasure hunter has ever made a difference to the Calamity that I’ve heard. If that is all I am, it is my life, and I can run the gauntlet at the castle as I please, shouting challenges to Ganon until one of his guardians blasts me. Then the Princess and with her the Sealing Magic will eventually fail and die, whether in days or months to come. Look then for the Malice to spread. It will not stop. It may take a long time, but it will not stop until Hyrule is covered and all life fails. Nor is there any reason for it to stop until the entire world is Ganon’s. Long before that, though, as soon as he is free of the Princess and whatever she is doing to hold him at bay, Ganon himself will resume his conquest. If that happens, the Calamity and the Time of Burning Fields will be only the beginning of the destruction.

“ _But_ , if I am who I say I am, there is the chance of life for Hyrule. If we succeed, Calamity Ganon will be banished, and Hyrule can begin to live again.

“So, will you sign and witness this? I hope that the Princess, at least, walks out of the castle alive and well. I last saw her at seventeen, in a white priestess’s vestment made filthy as we fled from the Guardians, having golden hair and green eyes. There are Sheikah elders in Kakariko, Hateno, and Deep Akkala, and many others among the Zora who can confirm her identity, as they will mine. Should we succeed and the castle be made safe from Malice and monsters, seek us or our bodies near the Sanctum rotunda under the highest spire, if no one comes out.”

“And if you fail?”

“Run. It will only delay the inevitable for you, but run. You must do so soon in any case if we do not succeed.”

They did not look at each other as they signed. The paper was sealed and placed in the lockbox. None of them doubted that, one way or another, it was doom. The final word. No matter his reputation and the proofs he offered, this boy was only one undersized Hylian against the growing abomination they had been dreading for months.

Just before dawn, while only the stable folk were awake, Link painstakingly groomed his three horses. Then he armed himself carefully, tacked up one of the mounts just as carefully, and rode out into the young day.


	2. The Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Calamity is gone. Where and how to even begin?
> 
> Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda franchise, including Breath of the Wild, and all related characters and elements are the property, copyright and trademark of Nintendo and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.

_“I must ask . . .do you really remember me?”_

Still he said nothing. The golden glow of the Sealing Magic seemed to suffuse her body. She was still dressed in the white gown she had worn on those disastrous last days, since the useless pilgrimage to Mount Lanayru.

_If she were a spirit_ , he pointed out to himself, _would it still look_ quite _so worn and grubby?_

He realized that he had been staring instead of answering her direct question. He managed the barest nod. It helped him to pull himself back together. He must know; after a century she was at long last free, she should not be held here if she was not meant to stay—

“Are you real?” asked Link softly, unwilling to look away in case she vanished; as the old King had, as the Champions had slipped out of his ken or the monks in the shrines had drifted on their way when their duties were discharged. He thought her beautiful in her own right, of course, but that was not what beat the breath from his lungs. Even with so much of his memory gone—gone forever, he suspected—he remembered more now, not only of the Princess to whom he owed his loyalty, but the girl who had grown up as he watched, and who had become the closest friend he had ever had, despite the enforced formality of their situation.

He remembered afresh the Princess, unarmed, putting herself between him and a Guardian’s flaring eye.

Puzzlement crossed her face, then comprehension. “No! No, Link, it’s all right, I’m here. I won’t leave—” She moved before he did, grasping his hands firmly. He felt his paralysis leave him. He tried to kneel, but she wouldn’t let him. _Not today_ , she said firmly. _Never again_.

They were near the ruins of the Ranch, somewhat over an hour’s easy ride from Castle Town’s gates. The Princess expressed a wish to see it. Against Link’s better judgement, although he said nothing, they started off, riding double at a walk. Both were silent, watching carefully; once Link was sure he saw a red bokoblin peering above the tall grass, but it vanished in a ripple of growth, running away. No others. But eerie wails reached their ears, fading as time passed. Monsters fleeing from the Castle, they thought, despairing.

They left Link’s horse to graze and catch his breath for long enough for the Princess to look at the castle. Link had haunted it for weeks now. He had learned that there was a limit to how much distraction he could ignore, and the shredded wrack of his memory coalesced at the slightest trigger in the place where he had lived and served for so much of his life. He had wanted to remember everything he could before confronting the enemy, lest he lose his focus chasing his own ghosts.

The Princess, he suspected, had a very different view. It struck him that it might be worse for her to see—

“Princess—”

“Don’t, please, Link. I’ll be all right.” She was still walking straight through the market square, toward the castle gates. The measured pace never seemed to vary, despite the need to pick her way through the rubble.

They had fallen silent. Without realizing it Link had resumed his old place at her right hand, a pace behind. He couldn’t see her face, but everything in her manner spoke of the sadness. He recalled the little girl from the King’s diary, so successfully putting aside her grief over her mother’s death; _where did she put it?_ he wondered now. Even then, surely, it must have burst out of her before long, but she would have made sure that no one saw.

She stopped, and he drew even with her, looking upward. The enormity of the day finally struck Link. The Calamity was gone. No Guardians showing Ganon’s colors anymore, none moving within sight on the ground; no monsters to threaten them, and no Malice swooping around the castle itself, polluting the earth and the waters and the light itself. And the Princess was free.

“I need to go in,” she spoke at last. “But not today. Anything I want there has kept this long.”

“Your Highness—” How would she take this? “I’ve been through there. There’s not much left. What the Calamity and the monsters haven’t despoiled . . . well . . . for a long time now, generations, people have been . . . they don’t even call it _looting_ anymore. ‘Treasure hunting’ is respectable now, despite the danger. For many it’s been the best hope of survival, after a bad crop or a monster raid, all over Hyrule.”

“I thought that might be happening,” she said calmly. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind so much. Far better that Hyrule salvaged what could be used than that it was all left to the Calamity, or to time.”

Silence again. A blue flicker caught their eyes, high up, almost at the belfry, but it was surely just sky through the blowing leaves of the overgrown ivy. After a moment she turned to him, and nodded. That was all. They turned to go—

As one, they turned back. Had the flicker been daylight through leaves, or the flitting blue flames of ghosts? There had been voices, no more than a tickle to the ear:

. . .. _way to go, brother . . .._

_. . .. well played . . .._

_. . . . beloved friend . . .._

_. . . . little bird . . .._

_. . . . live. . .._

Then the whispers were gone. They could see the sunlight shining silently through the belfry now, unimpeded.

The horse, they both felt, had done good duty for the day. The debate over which one would ride was won by Link, who insisted that the Princess mount, awkward as she found riding aside even on a proper sidesaddle; but after a few paces, something felt wrong. She had hopped down and was searching for the hoofpick almost before they had stopped moving.

“Behind the cantle,” suggested Link as he bent and asked the horse to lift his near hind leg, taking the pick from her hand and prying out the dirt and grass. “Here.” He handed her a small, sharp object as he set the hoof down, freed of its irritant.

“A chip from a guardian’s claw,” she identified wryly, turning it in her hand.

“I think the sole’s just bruised a bit.” He checked the other three hooves for good measure.

“It’ll still hurt, poor fellow,” she said. “If you want to fuss, Link, fuss over him. I’m fine. I need to move. How did _you_ feel at first, when you left the Shrine of Resurrection?”

“Much the same,” he admitted reluctantly, as they resumed the slow progress toward the river. “Weaker, though. I was in no shape for anything for days, really. Princess, I don’t know how that healing shrine worked, and I still don’t remember much of my life before, but thanks to you I live. Will you tell me what happened to you? After you took the Sword to the Deku Tree, anyway.”

“Some of it,” she answered. “A great deal of it I doubt I can put into words.” She was silent for a moment, then looked at her right hand.

“Once the Sealing Magic awoke, it pervaded my being. Almost immediately I had full use of it. I was always taught that it was the Sealing Power, but there is more to it. Much more.

“While the Sheikah took you, bound for the Shrine of Resurrection, I took the Slate and the Master Sword—that much you know. Guardians could not withstand me. I found that I could _travel_ , I could move from place to place in the same way that the Sheikah Slate lets you move to a shrine or tower, or the Champions could take themselves to their Divine Beasts. I’d found that I could hear the Sword, as I had hoped for all those years to hear Hylia. I learned things from it that Hyrule has forgotten, of its millennia of conflict with Calamity Ganon, and of the heroes who bore it. I’ll have to write it down, all of it, and soon. I don’t want to forget.

“I went first to Kakariko to send Robbie and Purah to activate the healing shrine, and gave the Slate to them, with a selection of pictures I hoped would prove meaningful to you. Then I traveled to the Deku Tree, delivered the sword, and went straight from the forest to Castle Town as swiftly as possible, taking the last part on foot so that Ganon might see me. All along the way, from Rauru village on—” she shuddered— “there was terror, and confusion, and death. People, horses, livestock, wildlife. Hardly a wall was upright in the town, and all were dead or dying or fled, and I, I could do nothing more to help than I was already doing.

“I did not have far to go, though. Guardians saw me and swarmed around, and I deactivated as many as I could reach, as fast as they could come. Then Ganon itself came. At once I challenged it.”

She drew a ragged breath, silent for a moment before continuing. “It engulfed me, swept me up to the Sanctum, and imprisoned me as you saw; but once there I put myself, and the Triforce—that is, the Sealing Power—beyond its reach.

“You learned how to use the Stasis rune of the Sheikah Slate, correct? The Triforce confers a similar power to the holder, but to a much greater degree. I stopped time for my body, and in turn imprisoned part of Ganon. Stasis freed my spirit to fight Ganon’s, its intelligence and _self_ , what of it was left after millennia of indulging its hatred. I could never hope to send it back, strong as it was, but I could hold some of it immobile with me, separating part of it from itself and achieving a balance for a time as our spirits struggled. Most importantly, I kept it from completing a new body. The chimaera you faced in the Laboratory was not the final form it wanted for itself. It had to scrounge from Guardians and its own monsters for that. Once it knew I approached, it had the idea of possessing _my_ body and taking the whole of the Triforce. It laid a trap for itself thus, and spent years afterward cobbling together a makeshift body.” She paused.

“I’ve been able to see and hear spirits since I awoke,” Link admitted after a moment. “I feared you were long dead, or that I might kill _you_ when I challenged Ganon, or that you would be near death from age and exhaustion.”

She shook her head. “I could speak so that you could hear me, but not because I was dead.”

“But the Champions spoke to me, and they died a century ago,” Link pointed out, fascinated. “They said so.”

“Their bodies did. I did not know what I asked of them, Link, but it was so much more than guiding a machine. Dying as they did, trying to wrest control from the Malice, their spirits could not leave, being joined to their Beast’s. . . mind. A mechanical mind, to be sure, but so complex a system that it may still be called a rudimentary mind. Otherwise, it might have taken several pilots just for one Beast to take one step. Also, had the Beasts—the Guardians, too—been simply mechanical, they would not have been so vulnerable to the Malice.”

“Did they understand that? None of them mentioned anything in my hearing, at least I don’t think so,” asked Link.

“I am not certain, but I feel that they _did_ know. I had plenty of time to think about it, and I think they were keeping something from us two, all of them, by agreement. But now our friends, and my father, are free. I envy you, Link. I wanted so much to speak to them again.”

“Is Ganon gone for good, then? And their spirits are at rest?”

“Ganon chanced everything on that final form, I think,” she said slowly. “It was enraged beyond whatever reason it retained, or it would not have become the Dark Beast as it did. I hope that it could not control its spirit’s path this time, and that it was not merely sent into the place where it has waited before. I hope that it has been pushed beyond, into final death.

“But… I will not deceive you. Once upon a time Ganon held a piece, a third, of the Triforce: the triforce of power. As long as the entire Sealing Magic exists, so might Ganon. And I had a sense that there is a body somewhere, his real body that he was born into. But we can hope for time, now. Although, ten thousand years was too long. We forgot too much.”

Silence again for a moment; then Link asked, “You said that you kept watch over me. How? I mean, through my own eyes, or yours, or others’? How much do you know of Hyrule as it is now?”

“Again, there are no words for much of it,” she sighed. “I wish there were. I could sense where you were at times, near or far, and a little of what you felt. It was never a complete picture. Some spirits and certain beings were… kind enough to allow me to see as they did, now and again. The spirits of the Springs, the Great Fay, Melanya, and of course the statues of Hylia are points that touch both realms—among others.

“Of Hyrule now, though, I know only that the villages are mostly gone, and the people scattered and in hiding. Where _are_ we going?”

“The nearest livery stable on this side of the Hylia, just beyond that far hill, near Owlan Bridge. They’ve taken the place of fortresses, village markets and provincial courts, as well as inns, over the years. On foot we should be there by evening, and we’ll be able to eat and rest in safety. Time enough, now, to leave everything else for the morning.”

“A bath,” sighed the Princess longingly. “Dare I hope for a bath, and a comb and something clean to wear?”

Link had to smile. “If you don’t mind wearing some of my clothes, or a stable girl’s. I made sure to have clean things ready. The bath might be in the river but there is privacy and soap, at least. Plain comfort is now a luxury, I fear, outside of the few villages.”

“Even so, it sounds heavenly.”

Suddenly Link stopped, looking at a mounted figure skylined on the distant top of Whistling Hill; then he relaxed. A man, not a bokoblin. He answered with a wave as more horsemen appeared behind the rider.

Before any of the horsemen could reach them, a shadow passed over. They looked up to see a Rito circling. Kass almost botched his landing in his excitement, but didn’t seem to care about the breach of his dignity.

“Oh, that I lived to see this day!” he cried in his rich voice. “Have I the honor of greeting the Princess Zelda of Hyrule? And Master Link, you are hale? Is the Calamity truly gone? I took to the air after Medoh shot his bolt—I saw the Dark Beast and started off at once—”

Just then the first horsemen galloped up, with Link’s other two horses on leads, and the party started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2
> 
> Author's notes: The principle that only a Champion could enter a Divine Beast always seemed a little thin to me-- at what point are Champions recognized by their machines, and who gets the things going in the first place for them to recognize their pilots? And who recovers the Champions' weapons after their battles? Also, they don't seem dependent upon the towers in BotW, so why that map in Creating a Champion that details the routes their pilots took from Lanayru, when each Divine Beast has a travel gate? Imponderables....
> 
> Thanks to any and all readers! I hope you enjoyed it.


	3. Afternoon and Nightfall; Morning of the Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what's the first thing Hyrule's people do when they feel free, after generations of monster occupation? Judging by Ocarina of Time and Twilight Princess, Ganon should be heartbroken at the reaction. Still, someone has to organize all that.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda franchise, including Breath of the Wild, and all related characters and elements are the property, copyright and trademark of Nintendo and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.

Ember, having had a day’s grace to think about it all, kept his head. The celebration was sent down the road several hundred feet toward Owlan Bridge, and his people tasked with keeping the road clear. Not only was there a Princess and a Hero for him to worry about, but there was also a traveler’s haven and stable to run, tonight more so than ever.

Thankfully, most of the revelers living nearby had the presence of mind to bring their own food and cookware and feed, once word spread. Picket lines were strung through the trees, rope corrals were staked out on the grassy hillsides and guards posted in case Bokos were still around, people brought out their great-grandparents’ instruments, roasting spits and cooking pots were set up and loaded.

One of Ember’s nieces, done with her final messenger run from Wetland for that day, took charge of their guests’ comfort. The Princess and Link were granted the privacy accorded to travelling companies, by dint of a curtain strung from the wall to enclose the first two cots; Leekah attended as the Princess bathed vigorously and washed her hair, then tried not to smile as Her Highness gently bullied Link to do the same. Applying the skills usually reserved for horses, she helped the Princess with the astonishing mass of bright yellow hair, far longer and thicker than most women could be bothered with these days.

The result was not what Ember expected from royalty. The beautiful, if filthy, gown and the tattered open shoes they had first seen her in were hanging from a roof beam and would be revered as relics of the day, but they were ruined as clothing. Now, she was in a pair of his niece’s doeskin breeches, freshly clean and almost new, and a newish pair of boots already broken in, all bought for a price that would easily replace both items. The muslin shirt likewise was slightly used, but the tunic over it was one of Link’s, who joined them just as the last strand of golden hair was smoothed into place.

Both were wearing blue, which was satisfyingly regal and appropriate, and only upon a second look did Ember realize that Her Royal Highness’s tunic was a Faronese Coast shirt bearing a traditional embroidered lobster.

Only the most curious or thoughtless really expected the two of them to join in the celebration; it had been, to put it mildly, a big day for both. At the very least, Link insisted, the Princess should eat carefully, until she knew how a hundred years of stasis after days of fasting and exhaustion had affected her digestion. Ember, used to being the authority in his establishment, agreed. When he thought about it later, he wondered why he’d dared treat his monarch so familiarly; but she had taken their advice and eaten slowly, helped along by the small bowl of hot broth over rice that Leekah brought from the pot.

Then, Gotter had put his hand in, as everyone had known he would. At least he really could cook and bake. There wasn’t enough fruitcake for all, but the Princess laughed as she received the first of it, and to all appearances enjoyed it as much as anyone else.

Overall, Ember was impressed. It was true, very true, that in these times a stableman saw or heard of every single Hylian in Hyrule during his life, especially of those Hylians who travelled. No one, now that he was really racking his memory and those of the other stablemen and merchants, had ever seen either Link before the towers rose, or the girl he called Her Highness. Kass the Rito had seen them battling the great dark beast on the field, his eyes far sharper than any others, and his education from a Court poet who had lived through those days ( _a Sheikah surely,_ thought Ember, _for no other Hylians had such long lives_ ) allowed him to accept the situation. And the Calamity was gone. For the first time in his life, Ember was faced with the probability that such an outlandish claim was not a con on the scale of Misko’s best.

But proof absolute came later that night, twofold.

First came Sheikah. Apart from old Pikango, it was rare to see them at a stable; they seemed to travel by ways that did not require horses. But tonight no one was much surprised to see a pair show up, breathing heavily but not out of breath, nor that they bowed low to the Princess and stayed no longer than it took to exchange greetings and hear the story. And then they were gone.

Many more saw what happened a few hours later. Any Hylian who could, journeyed to see the city of the Zora once in their lifetime; but seldom did the Zora venture out to seek Hylians.

It was nearing midnight when a hail from the river preceded five Zora, two discernably aged, each bearing two huge bass to contribute to the proceedings. The gifts were accepted and sent straight to be cleaned for the spit, greetings were exchanged with Ember as the authority in charge, and the eldest Zora immediately asked after Link: dared he hope that the boy had survived the onslaught of Vah Ruta?

Upon hearing of Zora visitors Link and the Princess immediately appeared, having just returned from an unobtrusive turn about the festival as it finally wound down for the night.

The effect upon the older Zora was instantaneous. They gasped, fins folded, and bowed low to her, emulated by the rest of the party.

“Princess Zelda Bosphorama Hyrule, we are greatly honored to be the first among the Zora to welcome Your Highness back to your kingdom, and to bear you the greeting of King Dorephan!”

“Councillor Muzu, Sergeant Seggin, I thank you for coming such a distance so swiftly,” began the Princess with the proper courtesy. Then her eyes widened as the tallest of the five stepped into the light, not waiting upon ceremony.

“Your Highness! But I _remember_ you!” said Prince Sidon himself, astonished. “You were at the top of the Veiled Falls that day when my sister taught me to swim up waterfalls!”

“I was! You amazed me— I thought you were too young to master such a feat so quickly!”

“And Link— you lived through that! Ruta spoke, and the Calamity is gone! I don’t mind saying we were terrified. No one knew what the Divine Beasts could do, and all four of them at once blasting away at the castle, and I’ll bet you were in the midst of it all!”

It was some little while before Bazz and Gaddison could be properly introduced, and soon after the Zora departed to bear the story back to King Dorephan, with a promise that the Princess and Link would be journeying that way soon.

—

Her Highness had first thought to start early the next morning for Kakariko, but found good reason to delay their departure when it became apparent that an unprecedented event was taking place.

The attack of the Divine Beasts and the cleansing of the castle had been witnessed by a surprising number of Hyruleans. Riders had gone out from Riverside and Wetland to the other stables as soon as they were sure of the news, and met riders coming in from Highland, Outskirts, and Woodland. This morning, those masters or their representatives plus those from Foothills, South Akkala, and Dueling Peaks had begun to arrive at Riverside, having ridden hard.

Meanwhile, yesterday afternoon had seen traders of all races, who had been working locally, trickling in. Last evening more Rito, who had borne the news of Calamity Ganon’s defeat to the west, came to hear and tell the latest word before going on to the farthest stables and homesteads to the east and north and south. Gorons who had been on the road had begun to roll in overnight, and curious Zora showed up with nets full of bass and trout, snails and carp to sell and trade as they pieced together the news.

Once the immediate needs of organizing what was becoming the biggest market fair in living memory had been delegated that foggy morning, the stablemasters present pulled up seats and sat down at the outside counter to confer; why, and with what aims, they weren’t quite sure, until they realized that the Princess was awake and had been standing by quietly, listening, as Link had gone out to the horses. . . and there _he_ was, talkative as ever, standing behind her. Stools thumped as the men stood, with no idea what to say or do in the presence of royalty. She surprised them by making sure of their names and stables and bidding them all be seated once more, this time seating herself in the chair that Link brought over from the common table. Then she asked if she might speak.

Link recognized this part of her. He recalled her voice, in circumstances he didn’t remember, once telling him how she disliked politics, but very much enjoyed meeting people and helping to resolve their problems. They had had a chance to speak again, briefly; he had been able to vouch for the Stablemasters and their Association in their current state, noting that most had taken over their positions from parents or at least family for a generation or three now, after thorough apprentice training and then serving most of their lives as journeymen.

“From what I have just heard, it is unusual for more than two or three of you to speak together, is that right? You have your establishments to tend, and travel has been very dangerous. To leave for a general gathering would have endangered the network that you maintain, which I see has been the last bastion of Hylian civilization throughout Hyrule, from the desert to the coasts.”

That brought them up short, glancing at one another. Horsemen, businessmen, defenders of their establishments and occasional arbiters of disputes, yes; preservers of a civilization, no. But now that someone had put it into words. . ..

“Your stables have all functioned as strongholds, trading posts and courts of justice as well as inns for the last century, and you have defined your territories. Yet beginning tomorrow, you will be faced with most of your fellow Stablemasters or their representatives, all at once, for the first time. You respect those peers for their professional abilities, because a stable cannot afford to fail; if one is in difficulty, the others step in, I hear.

“So, there cannot be much of importance said here until the others arrive, or you will waste a great deal of time repeating everything to new arrivals, who may resent decisions made without their input. If I may suggest a few things, though, that you may wish to address—”

“By all means,” Ember spoke for them all, curious about what a Princess might say.

“Thank you. Firstly, the monsters are not entirely gone, although without Ganon the Blood Moon will have no power to raise their dead. We cannot know yet if those who have been so revived perished yesterday, or will live out the remainder of their lives. The temptation may be to form bands to hunt down and exterminate the survivors.”

There was a pause as they digested that.

“Are you suggesting that we _shouldn’t_ , Your Highness?” asked Master Kish of Woodland.

“I suggest that they be watched and tracked, and avoided,” she said. “Without Ganon’s influence, their populations should diminish naturally without the risks of fighting them. If they decrease to the numbers they had when _I_ was young, they will be no danger to Hyrule, merely a rarely sighted curiosity to a population much reduced since my childhood. Had we realized it in time, the increase in their numbers and activity would have confirmed Ganon’s imminent return far earlier than any other sign, by a decade or more. We cannot afford to lose sight of that, even if every indication is that Ganon is finally dead. Nor can we overlook the possibility of other dark powers arising to fill the void left by Ganon’s defeat, just as Ganon did millennia ago after another Demon King.

“On the other hand, by all means defend yourselves and your property if monsters raid again, or if they appear to be organizing into large bands. If they do, please get word to me. I certainly expect to hear of conflict as they move away from people, deeper into the woods and mountains.”

The Princess paused, letting her words sink in. Link noted to himself that training an army might well fall to him, but when? As for _who_ , anyone who wanted to go monster hunting might find himself drafted.

“Secondly,” she continued, “whether or not _we_ two survived yesterday’s events, _you_ would have found yourselves in the same position today with the defeat of Ganon. That position, whether you are ready to accept it or not, is that of political leaders of your territories. I would expect some of you, at least, to have certain issues arise very soon— people who wish to build houses and found villages haphazardly right at your fences or in your pastures, for instance. I dare say there will be property claims and disputes in ways that have not been seen in centuries. That is only one possibility.

“I put it to you all that, in your lifetimes, you will surely find yourselves in a Hyrule vastly different from anything you or we two have known. Monsters will no longer prey on every traveler and homestead, and the Guardians will remain inactive or peaceful. Trade, agriculture, crafts, more farms and villages, and soon enough more crime will begin to flourish.

“For the present, you must still run these stables, of course. But you and your people at each establishment, and the people in the territory you serve, will soon need to choose others—judges, spokesmen, clerks, watchmen—to fulfill needs that vanished a hundred years ago. Hyrule can be revived and rebuilt. _How_ it is rebuilt might be decided by you and your peers over the next few days, right here.”

“And what of the Crown’s property, Your Highness?” asked the journeyman from Highland, earning himself some hard looks.

“The castle demesnes covered much of Hyrule Field a hundred years ago, counting all the garrisons and exchanges, and the Ranch and the Coliseum,” she replied, apparently oblivious to his confrontational attitude. “Even then, that amount was excessive, and recognized as a growing burden to the Crown. With the population so reduced, I would be glad to see tilth and pasture instead. There are cattle, goats, and horses running wild that might be herded there now—immediately, that is. There are also foundations of farms and villages that can be rebuilt. I feel strongly that anyone who can build on such foundations should do so, and keep what they build and till and use to pasture livestock. That will mean recordkeeping and surveying. There are also a few things, like the Exchange, that might be kept as a public space, and rebuilt when it's needed.

“Something that you know better than I, just now, is whether any of the old fortifications should be shored up and manned, and if so, which would be the best locations to fend off monsters or marauders.

“It is not an urgent need yet, but the Castle Town square should be cleared soon, I think, and a market set up. A market in the old plaza could be as simple a matter as carting out rubble and making sure that the water is uncontaminated and flowing. In the coming weeks I must speak to the Gorons and the Zora. If they will lend their help, stone and water will be problems no longer.

“Along with that should come a new stable. There were many inns there once, all filled every market day. If a market flourishes, a stable _will_ be needed. One might be established near there in any case, as Hyrule Field will be safer for travelers.

“There should also be a statue close by, even a small one in the open. The Castle Town cathedral and the Temple on the plateau were destroyed.”

“May I?” interjected Link’s quiet voice.

“Of course,” said the Princess.

“The Sacred Grounds, in the grove across the road from the town’s south gate,” he suggested. “Like the Market Square in the town, restoring it would be a matter of repairing the pavement and the fountain, and maintaining the verge and the surrounding park, even if just by grazing livestock there. Perhaps that would be a good place for a statue, in peace and quiet, where any traveler may worship.”

“I’ve seen the place, from a distance,” said Ember. “What was it used for?”

“It was the ceremonial stage for the military.”

“Wasn’t that Coliseum used for that?” asked another.

“No,” said Link. “That was a combat arena.” Something about the set of his face deterred further questions on that topic. The Princess changed the subject.

“There are things I myself would like to retrieve from the castle, personal effects that may have survived. There may also be… remains to inter. I do not, however, anticipate residing there permanently again, not in my lifetime. It is far more important that the knowledge in the library be salvaged for the benefit of all.”

With that, she stood and excused herself, leaving the Stablemasters to consider their new world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon stuff:
> 
> Just for fun, I decided to follow Latin and give Zelda's family name as Bosphorama, since King Rhoam's was Bosphoramus.
> 
> In Ocarina of Time, Lon Lon Ranch was privately owned. Ten thousand years later, much of Hyrule Field has become the property of the government, and the Ranch is the Army's remount facility.


	4. The Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As seen in the post-credit cutscene in Breath of the Wild, and as mentioned in Creating a Champion, Princess Zelda hits the ground running. At some point, though, things have to catch up, for both her and her knight. As he observes, she talks a lot.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda franchise, including Breath of the Wild, and all related characters and elements are the property, copyright and trademark of Nintendo and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.

Midmorning had come and gone, and the river fog had finally lifted and burned away in bright sunlight. Last night’s revelers were mostly awake now, some nursing sore heads, others ranging over or past Whistling Hill to explore Hyrule Field in evident safety for the first time. There was a constant influx of new arrivals; when Link had awakened early, it was to find more Sheikah runners sent to gather the news, waiting for them to stir before starting back. Not a day after the defeat of the Calamity, Princess Zelda found herself wishing to be several places at once.

After the meeting had broken up and the visiting stablemen had gone to take in the sights at the growing fair, she and Link sat on the steps by the stable’s outside counter, trying to sort out priorities that seemed to change every few moments that morning. Above them, Ember leaned on his elbows, on duty but listening in by royal invitation.

“Kakariko, the Castle, and here. Impa won’t be able to travel this far by now, I’m sure, and I _need_ to see her. Then the Castle should be cleared in an orderly way—there might still be monsters, and certainly a great part of the structure itself will be unsafe. If any remains can be brought out for burial, that should come first. Now that Ganon is gone, I fear that real looting will begin in earnest, within days if not hours, and that much that might have been useful will be destroyed or taken away in the process. But what happens here, with the Stablemasters, will be most important in the long run.”

Ember considered, then shouted toward the children playing by the road. “Hey! Has Spoone shown up yet?”

“I’ll get him,” answered one of the children, and sprinted off.

“Spoone is a travelling doctor,” explained Ember to the Princess. “If he doesn’t want to interrupt his rounds, he’ll at least know who can tell what bones belong to what species. As for security while that goes on, we can draft some of the merchants’ guards while this fair is set up, ask for volunteers, and send a few hotheads from each of the closest stables. It’s what we do when we need to track monster patrols. That should keep things under control there for a few days at least.”

“Thank you,” said the Princess. “I will ask the Sheikah to send some people. There may even be some Sheikah who remember our excavations a century ago, and the methodology we used, at least until we can bring Purah and her assistant. Perhaps some of the other races here will help as well. We’ll really need Goron mining engineers, and soon, but for now even a Goron child could tell us where stonework is unsound. But again, riding or sending to Death Mountain and Kakariko for trained people will take time.”

“There seem to be Gorons aplenty rolling in. I expect some will be curious to see the Castle, and knowledgeable enough for the purpose,” suggested Ember. “As you say, any Goron should be able to judge where a stone building is dangerous. But those two messengers last night were the first Sheikah I’d seen for months, aside from old Pikango.”

“Maybe we should just use the Sheikah Slate,” suggested Link. “I’ve never tried to take anyone else along, but everything I’ve ever carried or worn has traveled safely.”

“I wondered how you could range so far afoot so fast, Link,” grinned Ember. “So the magic dingus has other powers.”

“It does,” the Princess made the reply. “More than we knew when we first found it. But it has limits. It is keyed to respond to very few people, for instance—us two and the Sheikah elders. In any case, if we left now, at least one of us could indeed go to Kakariko for the afternoon. Other places though, the Zora city foremost, will require me to ride or walk there as a matter of etiquette, to give adequate warning.” She rose, addressing Link. “Shall we try from the shrine over there? Until the other stablemasters arrive, there is little way for me to be of much use here.”

“It will take a few more days for Snowfield and North Akkala’s people to get here,” said Ember thoughtfully. “Rito Village, Gerudo Valley, Tabantha Bridge, and Serenne should begin to arrive tomorrow, and I expect Lakeside later today.” He took a deep breath.

“Your Highness, I don’t know what the rules are for keeping a meeting that size civil. Are there any, aside from shouting down and punching out troublemakers, and abstaining from strong drink until we adjourn? The Association rulebook doesn’t say. It seems to assume we all know a procedure that everyone must have known by heart generations ago.”

“There are indeed rules and procedures,” answered the Princess, amused. “If any record survived, it should be in the castle library, and we’ll try to find it. That _is_ something that can be worked out now, though…”

Link looked up and down the road as the Princess briefed the Stablemaster on the Rules of Order, thinking that the reality would be entertainingly different from the stodgy engraved-in-stone script that the two of them were used to. More visitors were walking in from the north, paying little heed to the stable in favor of the sights and smells drifting up from just beyond. There were children with them, the first Link could recall seeing on the road in all the months he had been travelling.

Ember inclined his head in thanks as Her Highness and Link turned to leave, then remembered something.

“I’ll tell Spoone what you want to do about any, ah, remains. He can take it from there.”

\-----------

“Think of it as if you will be at a dig site with Purah,” suggested Link as they strolled across the road and up the hill to the shrine. “Or with the Gorons. Only the Zora and the Gerudo, and Kakariko under Impa, retain any knowledge or practice of court solemnity.”

“I intend to adjust,” she answered in the same vein, though the lighthearted tone rang false to him. She was talking a great deal today, he thought; he suspected it was to avoid thinking about… what? Too many things to wonder about. He’d have to wait until she wanted to tell him.

“Of all the things that were lost, Hyrule can most easily spare all the nonsense of courtly life as it was then. I noticed that no one seems able to remember the names of their last lords, or the exact borders of their provinces. The boundaries on the Slate’s map don’t always match them either, by the way. Ten thousand years of politics wiped clean.”

“The nobility,” mused Link. “I remember very few. They—they were gathering at the Castle for your birthday, weren’t they? Waiting for your return?”

“Yes,” she said briefly. “If any had escaped to defend their lands, I think you would have encountered their descendants still holding some sort of power. But the truth is that most preferred life in Castle Town and rarely visited the fiefs they were entrusted with. I suspect that was a blessing for their subjects, in several cases.”

She glanced at him. “Don’t take that to mean that I haven’t mourned them. No one deserved to die in the Calamity the way they did. It might have been, _should_ have been my task, eventually, to rein in Hyrule’s nobility. It would have been far better to fight that fight than knowing what _did_ happen to them.”

They continued until Link broke the silence. “Princess—was it usual for so many to gather for your birthday?”

She sighed. “No. Father had promised me a year or two’s grace, due to the Calamity, but that birthday was my coming-of-age. Soon—ideally, that day—I was to have accepted one amongst those approved as suitors, for a husband. For the next King.” This time she looked at him squarely. “I…had other ideas. I trusted few of those ‘eligible suitors’ with their own fiefs, much less with my kingdom or myself. In any case, I wanted none of them.”

“Because you were already in love.”

“Yes. With you.”

Link tried to choose his next words carefully. For months he had been confused about his recollections of her, unable to sort them correctly, although he’d finally decided that the Princess looked and acted a bit younger and gawkier in the memories where she didn’t like him. He vaguely remembered feeling that he must allow her a great deal of his patience on account of her immaturity, while also being uncertain at first _why_ she disliked him so. That was, aside from the fact that a bodyguard represented a loss of privacy and independence to a youth already needing more of both. But memory was notoriously susceptible to suggestion, wasn’t it? And a lot of suggestions had been presented lately.

He gave up.

“You’ll have to tell me everything, in very small words. I remembered things that happened where those pictures were taken, and more since I saw you first yesterday. People like Impa and Purah tell me that we were…close, and they give me these _looks_. Kass sings about us and it’s all so _embarrassing_ not to know what they do!”

She put her hand over her mouth, tears tracking down bright red cheeks, laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, regaining a bit of control. “All right. To put the obvious suspicion to rest, we were never lovers. Never kissed, and only once plainly spoke of how we felt, though we knew. Urbosa teased us mercilessly, those last few months. So did Purah.”

“Urbosa still does. Did. Purah will too.”

“I can imagine! No matter how we tried, and I think we can say truthfully that we _did_ try, we were evidently… transparent. At least, to some people.”

Her tone turned rueful. “You see, our duty was everything, for both of us. Mine was to wield the Sealing Magic and banish Calamity Ganon again without allowing it to damage more than a few roof tiles, and soon afterward to approve Father’s and the Royal Council’s choice for my husband as if it were _my_ idea—and to do so as a sweet, innocent, proper, _helpless_ girl, becomingly unable to act or speak or think for myself. One who had never ridden and walked the length and breadth of the Kingdom to get four Divine Beasts working, or managed to recruit and train the best among all the peoples for their pilots, or surveyed mile upon square mile of the Kingdom for sites and relics and routes for the Beasts to travel.

“Your duties while Champion were to wield the Master Sword, to be my appointed knight and personal bodyguard, and to be the captain of my own guard company, all somehow on the pay of a landless knight without any grant of a manor or any extra stipend. Aside from the Master Sword and your shield, and the Champion’s tunic, you just used the standard-issue arms and armor of any other officer of my guard. You even had to buy your own horses, if I remember. All the other Champions… well, one was a head of state, one was heir to a crown, one had risen to be chief of his people’s militia, and another was the most accomplished among his folk at their martial skills. They could all draw on the resources of their people, and also on the Kingdom’s exchequer, through me. I was more restricted when it came to my appointed knight, because you were already on the Guard’s payroll, and Father’s rules about any recompense coming through me rather than your paymaster were extremely strict. Anything _I_ gave my bodyguard might be a bribe or even blackmail.”

The remarkable thing, Link thought, was that her tone was almost free of the bitterness her account deserved. It all rang true, too true. He must have let his own ruminations run along the same lines. The frustration, pity and self-pity, the feelings of futility—all were familiar.

“All of them would have gone home covered in glory, if we’d won that day. But if gossip had come to my father’s ears that _we_ had feelings for each other, I expect that your reward would have been some assignment _very_ far away from me and the Castle, effective the instant Ganon was banished. I suspect you might have been sent to the Zora as the ceremonial guard to the Crown’s ambassador, as your father was when you were young. I know that you and Lady Mipha had always been great friends, and that Mipha had become… attracted to you, and jealous of the time we spent together, not without reason.”

“Um… that’s another thing I don’t know enough about,” interjected Link carefully. “What I do remember is Mipha talking to me as she healed a gash on my arm, saying something about Spending Some Time Together when the fight against Ganon was over, and that it gave me the feeling of, of my feet suddenly slipping and leaving me hanging over a long drop by one hand. All I know for certain is that I spent time with the Zora as a child, and played with young fry who are now full-grown. Whatever I did for Mipha to make me armor, I don’t know. I can’t remember _anything_!”

“I didn’t know about the armor, back then,” said the Princess, her calm detachment somehow quieting his frustration. “I don’t think you did either. I’m sure one of you would have mentioned it.”

“I’m sure I didn’t know. The King and Prince Sidon only seemed to find it after she was lost. Her diary survived, and from it… they have the impression that she never told anyone else. No one but those two knew about it before I showed up to help with Vah Ruta.”

“H’m. Link, how much do you know about the way a Zora girl grows up? Really?”

“Evidently not enough. You’re trying not to smile.”

She did smile at that, and her voice fell into the reassuringly familiar tones of a lecture. “Zora live so long that they have very different views from Hylians regarding marriage. They marry and then may separate at certain times over their lives as a matter of course. You probably knew that much. But the effect is that by the time Zora girls are ready to settle down and raise children, they know whether they want to do so with the first mate they chose. Most of them do, or did a century ago, but some go free to find another. If a girl has first formally taken up with, say, a Hylian—she is more than likely a young widow by the time she outgrows her first attachment and is considered mature enough to raise young.

“At the _very_ worst, that’s why King Dorephan and my father might have approved of _you_ as a match. Mipha would have her love, you would have married far above your station, there would have been no offspring to complicate their royal succession, and Father could rest assured that he had adequately rewarded a Champion and that I would forget all about anyone but whichever son of Faron or Tabantha or Akkala wangled the Council’s approval as my suitor. It kept me awake some nights, toward the end. The prospect looked likely enough on paper, as it were, that I feared Father would seriously consider it, and there was no time or attention to spare from our own preparations to deal with what might come after. Father and I had had… a difference of opinion, and weren’t on speaking terms… I don’t know if you recall it…”

“I do,” was all Link could tell her. It took a moment for her to regain her composure.

“Don’t mistake me; I believe Mipha really did love you. But she was still, in our terms, very immature in important ways.”

“So were we.”

“So we were. But with Mipha it was easy to forget that, because she was so incredibly intelligent and well-disciplined, a superb warrior and an impeccable diplomat. Also, she was physically much closer in size to us than she would have been by now, had she lived. Just look at how huge Sidon has grown in that time, and at the size of their father.”

Link pondered. “Did I ever know any of this?”

“For certain? I don’t know,” said the Princess. “A mixed relationship isn’t in good taste to many Zora. Their society is very insular, in its way; they seldom put their customs on display to outsiders, and in turn some Hylians—my tutors among them—considered discussing certain Zora customs…indelicate. Yet you were living there, playing with their children, until your father was rotated out. That meant a posting of at least four years, and I believe it was longer. But at your age then you would probably still have been uninterested in marriage customs.

“As to the rest—I did not want to worry you, and there was never a good time to discuss it, those last weeks. Anyway, Father and Dorephan were more than likely to have kept their heads in the end, and to have let you and Mipha sort the situation out on your own. Certainly Mipha would never have tolerated either of you being forced into anything, and Dorephan always let her have her way in the end.”

“Ah,” said Link thoughtfully. “By the way, there’s a fellow I should speak to, and soon. A little Zora girl with excellent letter-writing skills netted herself a boyfriend. I doubt he knows any of that. And a Zora lady I apparently knew back then apologized for fighting with Mipha over me when we were young. That fits, I think.”

The Princess let out a laugh. “It does. Anyway, I can only pick up _your_ story when your father moved back to Castle Town and was reassigned to his old unit, pending his retirement. You were ten or eleven, I think, and already a noted swordsman, so you were sworn in as a squire a few years early, then excelled at everything they threw at you. At nineteen you were goaded, or rather hauled, into the Lost Forest by a group of older squires taking their trials before being knighted. You were one of only three to reach the Deku Tree. That was when you pulled out the Master Sword. After that they _had_ to give you the accolade early, and you were assigned to my personal guard, partly because you were too short to fit with the rest of the Royal Guard on duty in the throne room. You were commissioned a lieutenant and then promoted to captain within a few years, after Sir Tallen retired.

“Of your family, I know only that you told me that your mother fell ill and died while you were with the Zora, and that your father retired from the Guard soon after you returned from the Zora and died not long after you were knighted.” She paused.

“I didn’t take well to having such a prodigy so near, not with the Master Sword there to remind me that I could not fulfill my own duty in the face of the prophecy hanging over us. I tried to convey that to you in the pictures I left.” The Princess looked sidelong at her companion. “This is a great deal to burden you with at such a busy time. Will you be all right?”

“Yes, I will be,” he said, drawing a deep breath. “Thank you. I’ve badly needed plain speech. You should know, though, before you go there, that King Dorephan and Prince Sidon seem to assume that I returned Mipha’s feelings more than I believe I did, and perhaps helped me with Ruta so willingly on that account. Though mostly, the rest of the Zora blamed me for her loss.”

The Princess winced at that. “But I was the one who chose her for Vah Ruta. She wanted it so much.”

“They were more familiar with me, and it seems that as I knew the Zora I was the messenger until you made the formal appointment. I think they assume I persuaded you, for Mipha’s sake.”

“ _You_ never said a word,” recalled the Princess. “It was all done with just before you were assigned as my knight, and I had so little to do with you before that, even when you were an officer of my guard. I was following Father’s advice to start with the best. To him, that meant royalty or high in the military.” She fell silent.

“Here we are,” said Link as they suddenly topped the rim of the shallow dip containing the shrine. “I assume you wish to imply that the magic only works at a lit medallion.”

“It seems best to be discreet. I don’t intend to invoke the Triforce until it’s needed.”

There was awkwardness on both parts, but they both deemed it safest to use the Slate as they clung to each other. To her relief, the Princess found that she did not need to transport herself while trying to find the same destination as on the Slate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Her Royal Highness does indeed talk a lot... Anyway, more headcanon: Hyrule, especially at its core around Hyrule Field, at the time of the Calamity had a feudal structure, most of which has been wiped clean. Hylian culture and customs could be as rigid as anything in the European-derived cultures I'm familiar with, especially for the royalty upon whom the populace looked; we like to call such Victorian, but many aspects were millennia old, and are familiar from tales of King Arthur, through Shakespeare plays and Jane Austen, on up to the present day.
> 
> Also headcanon: Zora apparently live for centuries, while Hylians don't; how would a mixed romance play out? I apologize for feeling the need to take up space to explain that one.


	5. The Day After: Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting to sort things out.

Arriving in the middle of the working day, when the village was up and about, meant that their arrival could not go unnoticed. Kakariko had a holiday air about it in any case _._ More than once someone hailed Link, only to stop short and kneel or bow upon realizing who his companion must be. And of course the word spread, ably assisted by Dorian’s little daughters, who bounded ahead of them yelling and cheering until any hope of a quiet personal visit evaporated. Cado bowed and waved them up to the Hall, leaving ceremony to Link in favor of planting himself firmly at the foot of the stairs against bystanders.

The Princess and Link looked at one another, took deep breaths, then Link gently thrust both leaves of the door open. Three steps inside, he bowed formally to the seated figure under the hat, noticing that Paya stood behind and to one side, unobtrusively kicking a dustrag behind Impa’s stack of cushions. He straightened.

“Elder Impa, Lady Paya, I present to you Her Royal Highness the Princess Zelda of Hyrule.” He stepped aside to allow her to pass. Impa did not wait, but hopped down off the cushions to meet her guests, and any pretense of propriety vanished.

A drawn-out shriek, quite like a teapot beginning to boil, intruded on Link’s ears as he watched the Princess kneel to hug her father’s onetime advisor. Paya realized first what it meant—

“Brace yourselves!”

“eeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEE ** _EEEEEEEE_** _! Princess!”_

“ _Purah_!”

Eventually the tangle of people and fast words sorted itself out. The mystery of Purah’s presence so soon after yesterday’s events was solved when Link saw she carried her own Sheikah Slate, larger and bulkier than his, weighing down a shoulder-belt. To Link’s surprise, Purah made no protest when Impa eventually suggested lunch and catching-up with him down the lane at the greengrocer’s pot, sending Paya jogging off the other way somewhere with a message.

“Little Sister does have her reasons,” said Purah firmly, leading him to the pantry. “The Princess has been a little distant, maybe? Preoccupied? What’s quick? Link, you grab the rice, just take the whole rest of the bag, that’s a good fellow. Can you manage the bowls too, until I sort out the hamper? She’s holding up well, really, I was afraid she’d just collapse into a useless mess for a while, and she’d never live that down, even with the excuse of all that time with the Calamity. If she wanted a hug or an ear, you or I would have given her that. You can pick the spices, you’re good with those, and ooh, _bacon_! Ready? Right, march!”

The bacon was fried and set aside to drain, the rice was cooking and they were peeling and slicing the last of the root vegetables into it before Purah felt they were sufficiently private again, and steered the conversation back to the Princess’s state of mind.

“The thing is, Impa thinks it’s all going to be fresh for her. Linky, I can’t begin to imagine the time you’ve had, not remembering anything. But her? In one way, she’s had a hundred years to think it all out, which is probably why she’s still sane at all. But in another way, now she’s back _in_ the world. I bet her body was just as tired and dirty yesterday as it was when she walked to the castle a century ago. And her mind needs to take a while to sort everything out. What she sees and hears and smells is a century’s devastation and rot and overgrowth, and to her the whole country has become unrecognizable overnight.

“Yesterday she defeated the Calamity. But now she can’t relax until… I don’t really know how to put this.”

“Absolution,” said Paya, unexpectedly appearing behind Purah, who jumped. “She needs to be judged, and condemned or forgiven. Dorian was the same way after, well, what happened. She may feel that even the victory yesterday doesn’t outweigh the Calamity’s a hundred years ago. Impa said she might want an informed judgement more than anything, before she can move on. And if Hyrule wants her head for what she feels is her failure….”

“She might not argue,” said Purah. “At least until she knows for sure whether she should.”

“I doubt that will happen,” Link shook his head. “All the people we’ve seen seemed more impressed about meeting the Princess who defeated the Dark Beast and worrying about how to address royalty.”

“That could change,” Purah pointed out darkly. “Right now it’s all a novelty, and will be for a while yet. Still, she seems to have taken the right tone with the Stablemasters. Did you put her on to them?”

“I suppose I must have, but I’m not sure what I might have said. I’m not even sure I explained adequately how Hyrule has survived,” he said. “I don’t really know myself. But I approve. I’ve met all the Masters. They all need to be competent, and a lot of what they do has to do with knowing the land and the people, spreading news accurately and keeping the roads safe. So yes, they should have a lot to do with organizing things for the Hylians outside the villages. There really isn’t anyone else.”

“We can be thankful for that, I think,” said Purah. “About seventy years ago, and then again… when was it? Fifteen years after that? Anyway, there were a couple of warlords, just brigands really, sons and grandsons of the old lords who tried to gather up little armies and carve out little kingdoms for themselves in the name of ‘saving Hyrule.’ The first Blood Moon after their first fight convinced them that they’d never hold a monster base, so then they tried to move into a couple of Hylian villages that had survived that long. Tabantha Village might have gone on like we did if not for that. Hylian fought Hylian there, the villagers were defeated, then the idiots felt all full of themselves and started bothering the monster camps again, and the monsters retaliated. Now they say there’s nothing left.”

“There isn’t. Where else did they try?”

“The next generation tried to take over that little place across the Rutala from where Vah Ruta’s been perched, I forget its name. The village resisted, but Lizalfos had been stalking the invaders and attacked everybody just as the defenses went down. Lizalfos still have the place for themselves. The Hylian survivors tried to invade Kakariko, but mostly they got lost,” she said smugly, stirring the pot. Link didn’t ask. Kakariko was difficult for enemies to find, and then impossible to flee.

“Oh, don’t fret. We’ve better ways of getting rid of people than slaughtering them. I imagine their grandkids will tell you the story, if you run across any.”

Paya popped a slice of carrot into her mouth. “This ought to be ready,” she concluded. It occurred to Link that, sometime since the affair with Dorian and the Yiga, Paya had shed a great deal of her shyness. Something she’d said clicked.

“So Dorian came clean?” he asked quietly, hoping Purah wouldn’t catch the words.

“Yes. For a sentence, Impa assigned him to helping me with… a… task. A… distasteful one, at times. Please don’t spread around what you know, by the way. Impa left it up to him whether and to whom to tell his story, so his daughters don’t suffer.”

“I won’t. He asked me, even before he told anyone else anything.”

“Just in time, I see,” said Impa, mounting the steps on the Princess’s arm and startling her sister. It looked to Link as if both women had been crying, but the—preoccupation? Tension? was gone from Princess Zelda as she put a thick roll of blue cloth into his hands.

Then Link did a double take. She was wearing her old travelling outfit—but it was _new,_ the blue and the white bright and unstained, the black breeches and brown riding boots unworn. She smiled at his reaction, not quite laughing aloud, spreading her hands to show it off. Link had to smile—here was something he recognized.

Paya caught the exchange. “Impa had Her Highness’s clothes saved, as well as the Champion’s tunic,” she explained. “As soon as the Divine Beasts were freed, she sent them off to Claree to make a new set, then sent it all to Cotera for everything a Great Fairy could do for them.”

“ _Everything_?”

“Everything.”

“Your… _task_?”

“Ye-es. I’d prefer not to go there again, personally, much less gather some of the notions she uses. I didn’t expect a Great Fay to deliver such one-note monologues. All she wanted to talk about was clothing and my love life.” She reddened a bit, but if Link had figured personally in that conversation, he was sure Paya wouldn’t have said anything to him at all. He clammed up and resolved never to tell any details of his own experiences with the Fay.

Paya was still speaking. “It did get me out of the village a bit, though. Did you look at that?”

Link looked at the bundle in his hands for the first time. The outer layer was the Faronese shirt that the Princess had donned yesterday. Under it, to his surprise, was a fresh Champion’s tunic of the same blue fabric as Princess Zelda’s, the embroidery duplicated down to the stitch. Inside that—

He looked up, to meet Impa’s eyes.

“We’ll keep that one here, if you will, in a place of honor,” said the elder gently. “It might have done no good for you to see it until you had learned to take on Guardians again.”

Great rents and holes, the edges singed, made the century-old tunic sag and droop shapelessly. The fine blue wool with the silk embroidery from Princess Zelda’s own hands was faded and stained with blotches from water and mud and blood. His eyes moved to the Princess’s, but she only nodded slightly, leaving it for him to decide.

It was no more than a rag, now, the actual tunic that he had worn constantly from the morning he’d been appointed Champion until the night he’d been committed to the Shrine of Resurrection. But, as he had given houseroom to the relics of his fellow Champions, and Riverside had wanted to honor the bedraggled priestess’ habit, Kakariko wanted this. He found himself only feeling sorry that the Princess’s handiwork had ended up in such a state. Impa was right, as always; seeing it immediately after awakening might well have intimidated him needlessly. He folded it carefully and handed it to Paya without a word.

“Soup’s up,” said Purah loudly. 

“We had a nice _informal_ visit,” proclaimed Impa as the bacon-spiced vegetables and rice vanished. “There is still a huge amount of catching up to do for both Her Highness and you, Link, but rest assured that the Sheikah intend to support the Princess, as has been our sacred duty since our beginning. Both of you are of course always welcome here, whenever you wish to come, under any circumstances.

“Purah, you are going to be busy today. You must ferry Robbie, and Jerrin and Grante if they will come here, as you brought Symin. Princess Zelda has requested our immediate assistance in clearing Hyrule Castle and its environs of enemies, then of remains and valuables, before looters become a problem. After Robbie at least is here, you must find a travel-spot near the Castle and begin taking our people, anyone who can help make the Castle secure and safe and assist Healer Spoone to identify any deceased.”

“Okey-dokey.”

“Then you must be the liaison between our people and the other races who will help at the Castle.”

“Nope,” said Purah. “I’m six years old. Symin can do that, at least as far as being a figurehead. He’s so boringly _normal_. No one’s going to mind him. I’m not even going to suggest Robbie, he scares people. No, wait—Jerrin might be even better than Symin. She’s normal without the boring.”

“Acceptable,” said Impa. “Loathe as I am to ever see you experiment on yourself again, I hope you now see the value of a rune to reverse this unnatural youth of yours.”

“If it were _that_ unnatural, little sister, symptoms would have shown up by now,” replied Purah brightly. “Just you wait.”

“NO,” said Impa emphatically. “I’ve come by my golden years honestly, thank you ever so much. I don’t want to go through them again.”

“Stubborn as ever,” Purah sighed. “So, Linky, what’s the best travel point close to the Castle?”

“There’s a shrine inside at the docks, and one in the old quarry outside the town wall. I wouldn’t use the inside one yet, there were lizalfos, and so much has been blocked off that they might still feel safe there….”

A few hours before sunset, the Princess and Link hiked up the hill above the village. Quite a lot of the villagers had found excuses to intercept their route, eager for a glimpse of their recovered sovereign. Impa had firmly passed the word that gawking at or accosting Her Highness would be rude this day, since there would be an official visit soon. Amused, Princess Zelda nonetheless found herself introduced to several of Link’s acquaintances who had no scruples about accosting _him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More headcanon: I like the idea that the Princess and Purah are closer friends than Purah implies in BotW. She seems the sort... Also, yes, Hyrule cures bacon. Lack of reliable refrigeration.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda franchise, including Breath of the Wild, and all related characters and elements are the property, copyright and trademark of Nintendo and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	6. The Day After: Evening; The Next Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briefing and debriefing, pretty much. Still a good bit of talking.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda franchise, including Breath of the Wild, and all related characters and elements are the property, copyright and trademark of Nintendo and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.

They were once again at the shrine on the gentle slope above Riverside Stable before Link asked, as delicately as he could, what Impa had said.

“Things that were hard to hear, and things I needed to hear,” she mused. “We have time, I think. We may as well sit. It concerns you, too.” Then, less detached, “I had to talk to Impa rather than Purah or Robbie or Dorephan, or even you, out of those who lived through that day. Dorephan and his people lost Mipha then, and Purah was always the auntie I never had, as little as we knew each other; she loves me to pieces. Impa, even then, was the wisest of all that wise family, and now she’s leading the Sheikah. I needed to consult someone who remembered everything, and who could be impartial.

“She gave me the honesty I’ve needed for more than ten years— _my_ last ten years, that is, before the Calamity—but now without having to cater to the King’s temper.” She sighed. “I spent a hundred years holding back Ganon, _knowing_ that I was to blame for the invasion, and feeling that any arguments to the contrary were simply attempts to spread blame and relieve my guilt. Impa knows, and I think you may too, that I will never be entirely free of that. But then she said that my course of action, once my power had awoken, proved to her satisfaction at least that I could never have failed without generations of failure behind me.

“When I questioned that, she said that too much knowledge had been lost over the ages, right down to my mother, who was prohibited by custom from writing down what she knew of her own power. Had we not lost the secrets of the towers and of the Divine Beasts and Guardians, and of the Triforce, we might at least have fought more effectively.

“But as Impa pointed out, Father then relied on the priests and priestesses of the Temple to awaken my power. I suppose it was understandable; he’d spent his youth studying for the priesthood, until his older brother died childless and he was obliged to take over the family title. He was knighted and served in the army for some years, stayed on in Castle Town as a nobleman, and ended up marrying Mother, though he was more than twenty years her senior. Of course, as King he expected that both Mother and myself fulfil our roles as priestesses of Hylia. But it never seemed to occur to him that the Sealing Magic was anything separate from our devotions at the cathedral or Temple.

“It meant that I spent years dividing my time between prayer and meditation designed to submerge my emotions and quiet my thoughts so as to hear the spirits, and being educated as a proper young princess, and also being taught a bit now and again about being next in line to the throne.

“As you may imagine, it was a lot. When I was eleven or twelve I discovered that I had the knack of compiling research from all sorts of sources and coming up with useful results. Then we found the Sheikah Slate, and over the next few years found the Divine Beasts and the Healing Shrine and got them working. For the first time, I was _contributing_ , even if my power lay dormant.

“That was when Father put a fifteen-year-old girl, untrained in combat or military matters even as far as self-defense, in charge of the kingdom’s chief response to an ancient enemy of whom we had no practical knowledge or experience. But he still insisted that my own power could only be awoken by more and harder prayer and meditation, as became a properly raised maiden of the royal line of Hylia.”

She paused.

“How much of this did I know?” asked Link gently. “I don’t remember it, but it feels familiar somehow. Maybe I heard someone talking about it.” A memory tugged at him: a woman's voice, wryly commenting that their Princess had been put in charge of Champions, and her father was publicly proud of her _embroidery...._

“No doubt you did. By the time you were appointed as my knight, you could hardly have avoided hearing about it, as well as observing firsthand. You, and especially Urbosa and Impa among those I worked with closely, did your best to offer wisdom and advice when you could.

“I loved my father. I still do, and it was hard to hear from another what I had begun to put into thoughts at the time, that the fight might be lost because the King did not appreciate its scope and nature as I and the Sheikah did, or allow me to rein to fulfill my duty to develop our defense as I saw fit. In short, I was expected to play several conflicting roles. That was about when I began to suspect, also, that I was the Temple’s celebrity, and was viewed as a prize and a pawn. The high priest seemed to think that the influence the clergy enjoyed under Father’s rule should grow, when I came to the throne. He wasn’t a bad man in any sense, but—he wished to be declared a Sage, I believe, and never understood that it was anything more than just a prestigious title to be awarded.”

She glanced at Link. “Impa suggested that my resentment of _you_ early on was chafing against my father’s inconsistent expectations, since your assignment as my personal guardsman meant that I had no real time to myself any longer away from my chambers; I always had eyes upon me that could report to the King.”

“I didn’t, I’m fairly sure,” inserted Link. “He never ordered it, either, at least that I recall. I did remember the appointment itself. The King just called me in and asked a few questions, then handed me over to an officer of his own guard for the details. I don’t think he spoke to me personally after that, back then.”

Her expression lightened for a moment. “ _I_ happen to remember for certain that you didn’t snitch,” she reassured him. “But at the time, I was angry. And it may well have set us all back, treating a Champion as badly as I did.

“Nonetheless, in the end, it made no difference. None of it. We had one chance only that day, and we were doomed to fail. The Yiga did their part, spying and praying to Ganon, and in their prayers they conveyed knowledge. He knew when the Champions would be away from the Divine Beasts, and that the Beasts were not in position to guard the Castle, and that we were all far away in Lanayru. He knew millennia in advance how the Guardians would deploy, and what the Beasts would do to him.

 _“We_ were children preparing to use grown-up weapons without knowledge or guidance, so impressed with how much we were learning that we never gave a thought to the one being who had known them in action and who had had ten thousand years to plan how to turn them to his own purposes. From his perspective it was a small problem, for one who could send away bits of his Malice, to control many simple-minded machines.”

“All that effort,” said Link in awe. “And all we did was prepare to fight a war from ten thousand years before.” The horrendous enormity of that oversight left him feeling ill.

“What else could we do?” the Princess asked quietly. “The Divine Beasts did their job again, in the end, and it was a huge advantage when they did, as we knew it would be. No entity or culture in Hyrule or outside of it, not even the Deku Tree or the Yiga, could have told us more of Ganon than the scraps and legends we gathered, or come up with a better plan against him. Only by knowing what he knew and exactly what he intended would we have even sent forces to each Beast to protect the Champions, or found the Guardians and deactivated those pillars—if we could.

“The thing Ganon knew best how to do was to _wait_. He waited ten thousand years to recover from his last defeat and grow strong again. When I imprisoned him with me, he first fought and raged—then he stopped, and rested. His blights and monsters and the corrupted Guardians were ravaging Hyrule, and he could afford to wait—for me to relax from my vigil, or until he thought of some new angle from which to attack me. And so our stalemate lasted for a hundred years.

“It was a lot of time in which to think things over. Impa at least feels that I’ve served my sentence, that I’ve vindicated myself, and she said that she will accept whatever I choose to do with myself from now on, even if I wish to retire in Kakariko and be a useless lump in a rocking chair on a porch for the rest of my days.”

Despite himself, Link snorted at that; and that set her off too, both of them laughing. When they ran out of breath, Link found that the awkwardness he’d felt since their reunion had dissipated. She would give him the space he needed, on account of his amnesia; he would reciprocate— _well, on account of her being a goddess, aside from being my liege,_ he thought to himself. Beyond that, they were somehow still in each other’s confidence, despite everything.

For the first time since his awakening, he felt he had a friend he recognized. Satisfying himself that none but Hyruleans were within sight, he offered her his arm for the walk down to the road, and told her so, and was pleased to see her smile.

The Princess’s confession had taken less time than Link had thought, for all the matter it contained. It was an hour before sundown when they emerged, refreshed, from the stable and strode toward the Fair, Link in his new Champion’s tunic, both intent upon a meal.

The haphazard collection of fires and benches and lean-tos had changed since last night. Now a double column of allotments lined the road, many still displaying no more than firewood logs propped up as benches around a fire. But more crude tents had appeared, and even a few booths with proper displays and counters. Bemused, they strolled down the length of the new midway, skewers of venison and mushrooms in hand.

Vendors and customers had appeared from everywhere, and consisted of farmers and herdsmen and hunters as well as the itinerant merchants. They offered anything they’d had at hand: horses and livestock, wood and metalwork and cloth and leather, pottery and brushes and soap and tools and salvage, but mostly food. There was music: flutes and ocarinas, drums and maracas, lyres and dulcimers and fiddles, two Gerudo traders playing a fast-paced guitar duet to a fascinated audience at one end as Kass led an impromptu chorus of anyone who felt like singing at the other. Near the bridge, two old wrecks had been hauled from the river and were being dismantled, waterlogged wood piled aside to dry, dry wood and rotted canvas sent to firepits, and iron hardware being shared out.

They did not escape notice, of course. Link firmly shut down the thought that neither of them might need to pay for a hot meal or a good drink for a long time. Money. He had made a small fortune for himself, he realized, just by knowing where to find gemstones. How had he remembered _that_ , of all things?

In this new world, how could the Princess support herself, even if she took up her proper position? _Especially_ if she began her reign? No taxes or rents, no way to assess or collect them, no stronghold or army or bureaucracy, and no Exchequer to manage funds. No unified Hyrule. Only people, suddenly free, who might want to try their newfound wings, and who might resent having to support a government that told them what they should and shouldn’t do after a century of fighting enemies and starvation on their own. They might not see that the world beyond their homes, even the other races of Hyrule, could be a difficulty to Hylians and to each other in future generations if the old bonds went cold, if the other races knew that the Princess was here once more but did not try to renew the old alliances.

But somehow she would, he knew. Even if she failed at first, she’d surely try and keep trying, and come out of the effort with new friends who might work to join their folk once more with Hyrule, when there was a Hyrule to join.

Well. He might just have to invest in hammers and picks and shovels. He’d already developed ties with traders and shops and tradesmen from Gerudo Town to Akkala….

“Link,” said the Princess, and he realized that it was the second time.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking things out….”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Um, whatever you do, don’t give up any mineral or timber rights when you start negotiating Crown holdings. I’ve been earning my way trading stones I’ve found, and trading lumber and Guardian parts. There’s a lot of, um, revenue potential.”

She smiled. “Could I ask you to climb about two-thirds of the way up the hill?”

Puzzled, he began to walk up the slope. A few minutes later he turned and looked for her; she was pacing here and there along the road, glancing at him as she did so. Then she called, “Link, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he called back, startled. He’d heard her clearly, and she had barely raised her voice.

“Now. Move to your left, please, toward those flowers.” A few more maneuvers followed, and each time he could hear her plainly.

“All right, you can come down. This will do.”

She was marking the spot with stones when he rejoined her. He looked at the concave spot on the hillside. Of course she would find a natural amphitheater, and calculate the one position where a speaker should stand.

“I’d forgotten,” he admitted. “I thought there might be a few dozen people gather at the stable some evening to hear you speak.”

“More, I expect,” she said soberly. “Who would pass up the chance to hear what happened on that day, who saw the end of Ganon yesterday? And from the rescued Princess and their hero?”

“Who rescued who, now?” he asked flippantly, trying not to show his sudden nervousness. Facing down monsters, yes; facing a crowd… the last time that had happened, the Zora had not been understanding until he’d driven the Blight out of Vah Ruta.

She saw through him, of course. “It’ll be all right, Link. Do you realize that you’ve met most of the people here? Every stall has had someone you know to greet you. They’re already your friends. They want to hear your story, but they’re curious about me too. I’m the unknown quantity. I can tell most of the hundred-year-old history, but when they need to fill in details, will you tell them what you can?”

“I…suppose. I think I’ve never spoken to more than a company of the Guard before. I don’t think I ever liked it.”

“I know. You never liked to put yourself forward. You were never trained to speak, although I’ve heard you use your command voice before. This is similar—speak loudly and clearly and not too fast, hold yourself straight and _relax_. Don’t strain or shout. I can help you with speaking, but later. You may need to tell them of your time since you woke up. I doubt you’ll be able to hide the memory loss. Have you tried?”

“Not since I realized that it was much easier to be truthful. The worst time it gave me was with the Zora. They expected me to remember everything, and thought at first that I was just lying about it. But I found from the very beginning that I’m not the only amnesiac to wander into a stable over the years, with so many monster attacks and so few people trained to fight or to heal nowadays. I was just the one nobody knew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more headcanon: The crown of Hyrule descends through the female line, with the Triforce. A hundred years ago, this meant that the husband of the Princess became King when she came to the throne, and took over the reins of government; historically, over ten thousand years, the succession probably saw every variation imaginable. In The Adventure of Link, for example, the cruel Prince seems to have been the heir, not his sister. I'm assuming that Botw Zelda tried the same thing against Ganon that Adventure of Link's princess did against her brother's less-powerful wizard, with much success.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1
> 
> A few thoughts: As I write, things are going to be fluid, notably space and travel times. I must assume that everything in the game is in a shorthand; we only experience what is relevant. Vast as BotW's open world of Hyrule is, I expect that in twenty years it could be even more realistic re: distances, the accommodations at stables, vertical exaggeration, geology, the actual capacity of Link's belt pouch, ad infinitum. For instance, one fan's video recorded the maximum flight distance from the Ridgeland Tower at over 5 km-- quite a way to glide, except that it covered a great portion of Hyrule; by extension, the whole kingdom might only be as large as a county in the Appalachians. In contrast, a ride from the base of Nero Hill to the Ancient Columns site and its shrine, at a reasonable pace, takes over two hours of game time. I worked that out at ten or twelve miles for a very small bit of map.
> 
> In any case, enjoy. If I get other chapters posted, please note that I will not describe a boss battle with Calamity Ganon. That's for the player to do.


End file.
